


The One Where They Go Shopping

by NAMAE



Category: Raven Cycle - Maggie Stiefvater
Genre: M/M, Mention of Blue Sargent, No Smut, Sex Shop, Soft Ronan Lynch/Adam Parrish
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-23
Updated: 2020-03-23
Packaged: 2021-02-26 15:48:37
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,916
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23280277
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/NAMAE/pseuds/NAMAE
Summary: “Did you find what you were looking for?” he whispers, the edge clear in his voice.Adam blinks, places one bottle back on the shelf that says, ANAL and NUMBING and CHERRY FLAVORED and turns to look at him. “Does it look like I’ve found what we’re looking for?”Or Adam hunts for lube and Ronan is a Catholic mess.
Relationships: Ronan Lynch/Adam Parrish
Comments: 5
Kudos: 111





	The One Where They Go Shopping

There’s a bell over the door that chimes when they walk in, Adam first with Ronan trailing behind him, head ducked. A clerk from the small counter greets them. She must’ve seen them get out of the car and seen their faces, their youth, because she doesn’t bother to look at them when she calls, “You’re both eighteen, right?” It’s enough to stop Ronan in his tracks, because even though he is, he doesn’t feel like he is. Not in a place like this. To the left and right of them are mannequins, infinitely older than they are, based on the yellowing. Ronan tries not to stare at the clothing they wear.

“Yes, ma’am,” Adam is saying, his hands already touching the fabric of some synthetic leather boxers hanging from a rack to his right, and he glances up at the register slightly behind the floor display to add, “D’you need some ID?” 

She’s still not looking at them, but instead at a magazine spread across the countertop. Ronan thinks he sees a glossy page on weight loss, but she flips to the next before he can be sure. “Nah,” she waves a hand in their direction flippantly. “Just let me know if you need anything,” and continues flipping through her magazine that Ronan looks away from. His eyes wander slightly to the left, at a display of glass dicks and he shoves his right hand to his face and sucks on the raw taste of the leather wrapped around his wrists at the garishness of it all. He tries to relax. He hopes he doesn’t look too uncomfortable in a shop overflowing with bright lights and even brighter lingerie.

From in front of him, Adam has moved onto the next pair of boxers, and he snorts at the words COCK JAIL printed across the crotch. 

“You’re not wearing those,” Ronan hisses, but it's pointless. Adam has already placed them back on the rack and moves his way forward. Ronan lurches to keep up, chewing on leather to keep him sane and grounded. He knows he’s tense.

Adam must know, too, because as they make their way through another display, he reaches back and touches the fingertips of Ronan’s free hand. Ronan bites down on leather to stop himself from looking spooked. 

“If you see anythin’ ya want,” Adam says, “just grab it.” Ronan grunts between leather an answer that he hopes suffices, but it must not, because Adam throws him a backwards glance and smiles sympathetically as he mouths,  _ Relax _ . And then Adam is walking towards a plastic shelf filled knee high to the ceiling with bottles and sprays. Ronan follows behind him, shoulders tight as he bypasses a girl comparing crotchless panties and a bodysuit with the breasts cut out. There’s a dildo bigger than his forearm displayed on an endcap for the low price of $38.99, and he sucks in a hesitant breath and shuffles until he’s right on top of Adam, looking over his shoulder. 

“Did you just  _ see that? _ ” Ronan asks, voice strained.  _ “What the actual fuck, man. _ ” But Adam only hums at him, two bottles in his hand that he turns and reads, and Ronan glances behind his shoulder at the stash of porn DVDs. For the most part, they all have women spread wide across the cover, but one catches his eye as a man above the woman grips his dick and a man below her edges himself inside-he looks five DVD cases away to see a man on his knees, hands tied behind his back with another man, slightly older shoving his dick to the other’s mouth. Below that, a woman licks another’s nipple, and he can’t help the way his lip curls up in both horror and fascination. Against the back wall directly behind the media, there’s a small row of rooms with a sign above them MOVIE ROOMS FOR RENT. $15 FOR 30 MINUTES. SINGLES ONLY and it hits him what that means and he glances back at the bottles in Adam’s hand. 

“Did you find what you were looking for?” he whispers, the edge clear in his voice.

Adam blinks, places one bottle back on the shelf that says, ANAL and NUMBING and CHERRY FLAVORED and turns to look at him. “Does it look like I’ve found what we’re looking for?” 

“Yes,” Ronan replies, and he goes to grab for a random bottle that Adam blocks him from. 

“That’s toy cleaner, you ass, and unless you have some that I don’t know about…” he trails off with the intensity of Ronan’s gaze, and he sighs and turns back to the display. “Here, just let me,” and he pinches the bridge of his nose as Ronan shuffles closer. Adam takes a glance back to the clerk reading about the latest in Hollywood, and says, “Not that I don’t love it when you’re close, but can I at least have three inches of breathing space for myself?” Before Ronan can protest, Adam’s nodding to the small display by the front window filled with mannequins. The mannequins dressed in all assorted clubbing and bedroom attire isn’t exactly a place he thinks will make Ronan more comfortable, but he points out the small wooden, tiered table to the right of it anyways. “Why don’t you go pick out some incense for Blue? She’d appreciate it.” 

“I am not doing that  _ here. _ ” 

“Just go look, then,” and to Adam’s surprise it only takes a small shove on Ronan’s shoulders to get him moving in that direction. Adam watches until he’s picking up sticks of incense, smelling each one a few times before he places it back into its original container and chooses another. He breathes out a sigh of relief and returns to the shelf. 

Adam thumbs through bottles saying ORGANIC and VEGAN and picks out two different brands of lube, one of which is marketed as BOY TOY flavored (whatever the hell that means) and another that claims it's long lasting. He’s trying to decide if getting a third would be overkill when he takes a glance and sees that the incense table is incredibly vacant, and his stomach drops. He would not put it past Ronan to escape to the car, and he quickly takes a few steps towards the entrance, trying to squint past the tinted glass of the door to see if Ronan is lurking outside. 

The clerk coughs, and when she does, Adam glances at her, takes the hint when she tilts her head to the back wall. “Thanks,” he mumbles as he walks past, and turns down the closest aisle, filled with special fantasy based dildos with built in vibrators. He grimaces at one titled DRAGON, at the way the shaft is carved to resemble scales, and pushes through to the other end. 

On the other side, he finds Ronan studying an item he’d plucked from a hook on the wall, reading the packaging, and Adam quickly stuffs a bottle of lube in between his arm and chest before taking the package and placing it back into the original spot. “You don’t want that, trust me.” 

“What is it?” Ronan questions, and he gestures to the wall in front of him. “I’m in the guy section, I think.” Adam doesn’t correct him, doesn’t say,  _ you’re in the kink section, actually, _ because the chastity device to Ronan’s left is definitely for men, and so is the thin rod that Ronan had just had in his hands. 

He only ushers Ronan along. “It’s for sounding,” Adam explains. 

Ronan blinks at him once, twice, and then pushes past him. “Get me the fuck out of here,” he hisses, and even though he carries nothing, he walks up to the register and waits. Adam follows behind. 

When they’re out to the car, and Adam is slamming the door of the passenger seat, he says, “I’m actually surprised with you.” Ronan clicks on his seatbelt as Adam drops the black, plastic bag on the floorboard, tugging on his seatbelt as well. As Ronan slips the key into the ignition, and puts the car into gear to back out, Adam stretches. Ronan knows enough about Adam, about the shape of his body and how his clothes fit to know the hem of the white t-shirt is pulled up to show a sliver of skin, but Ronan can’t see it with his hand braced on the back of Adam’s headrest as he twists his body to look out the back. He pulls out of the parking space smoothly, and Adam’s arms snake over the headrest, elbows bent, so that the joints of his fingers dance across the back of Ronan’s hand for a fraction of a second before he pulls them back. 

Ronan turns in his seat and changes gears. The car stops reversing, and lurches into drive. Adam turns towards him, a faint smile on his face. “I honestly thought you were gonna run in there. And then you bought somethin’.” Adam laughs, and he presses his palms against his knees and pulls the fabric of his jeans down lower. Ronan knows that action, and as they glide back onto the highway, forty miles from Henrietta, he glances at the way that Adam is slouched in the seat. He knows Adam, knows his body language enough to know that the passenger in the seat beside him is sporting a half chub, but he doesn’t call him out on it. The knowledge of it makes Ronan shift in his seat. 

“Nothing  _ explicit _ ,” Ronan reasons. And then he frowns and changes lanes as Adam smiles at him, teeth bright in his peripheral vision, and it makes him crack a smile as well. 

“Massage oil can be pretty scandalous,” Adam says, voice even, “Dependin’ on what ya plan on doin’ with it,” and then Adam is reaching down to the floorboard to place the bag on his lap. He starts digging through it, unceremoniously. “But I’m glad you didn’t run. Would’ve been awkward for the clerk, I reckon.” He has the audacity to try and hide his humor deep in his Henrietta accent, and it drives Ronan forward. He thinks he’s going fifteen over the speed limit, but he doesn’t care.

Knuckles white against the steering wheel, Ronan has the defiance to look shocked and offended. Adam pulls out the package from the bag, knees pressed against the dash, bag on his stomach. He holds up the cardboard packaging slightly above eye level, letting the sunlight hit the colorful print of the label. “Parrish. I saw a dick attached to a  _ drill _ . Like, who the fuck  _ needs that? _ ” He runs a hand over his shaved head and frowns. “Jesus _ Christ _ .” And then, “Wait, why are you laughing at me?”

“‘S nothin’. Hey, look.” And Adam is looking at him, bright blue eyes set above the edges of his cheeks. “You survived. You even picked out something. I’m in shock. But I’m proud. In shock, but proud.” And he sounds confident in Ronan. There’s a small pause before Adam turns back to the small package in his hands, his voice droning as he reads off the lists of ingredients and the tag lines printed on the box before he starts tearing cardboard to get to the oil inside. The softness returns to Ronan’s face, and he allows himself to place his hand on the center console, his pinky lightly touching the back of Adam’s hand. To his left, the mountains call him home.

**Author's Note:**

> I wanted something sweet, with the both of them innocently exploring their sexuality, and this happened. I hope you've somewhat enjoyed it as well.


End file.
